


Pretty Echoes of the Long Dead

by sunbeamruins



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Author Using KonMari | Marie Kondo Method on Canon, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Post-Episode: s02e05-06 Rise of the Cybermen/Age of Steel, Time War Angst (Doctor Who)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-16
Updated: 2020-06-16
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:27:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24750811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunbeamruins/pseuds/sunbeamruins
Summary: The Doctor had promised her the best stargazing this side of the galaxy. They may have gotten a bit waylaid, but it was one promise he managed to keep.A coda to an adventure off-screen.
Relationships: Tenth Doctor/Rose Tyler
Comments: 1
Kudos: 23





	Pretty Echoes of the Long Dead

**Author's Note:**

> Sometimes you've just gotta write the self indulgent time war angst fic 13 year old you would've loved to read.

The day had been as typical as it got while living on the TARDIS, if anything less eventful than usual. Rose wondered when she started considering solving planetary disputes an average day; likely somewhere between managing to get locked up on a grocery run and re-ordering her footwear by run-for-your-life efficiency.

Night had fallen and quenched any touristic fancies she or the Doctor may have had, but the distinct lack of getting kicked off-planet—an immense relief and mild anomaly on days like these—was enough that they didn't want to head out just yet.

While the day had been typical, it had stretched on far longer than she'd expected. The planet had about 35 hours a cycle, as the Doctor had noted offhandedly earlier, and every one of those extra hours were dragging Rose down. The exhaustion was starting to eat away at her, leaving the thought of being around others—even for a celebratory party—almost overwhelming.

Maybe the Doctor had a point about not spending too much time on domestics. Fresh from a weekend at her mum's spent reassuring herself that Jackie was safe and letting the news of Mickey's departure spread, the whiplash from nights on the couch watching telly to adventures in space was nearly dizzying. 

Looking around, she spotted the Doctor off to the side, chattering away with some of the locals, likely recounting a similar adventure while absorbing any and all information he could about their culture. _He was always so popular_ , she mused, biting back the unnecessary jealousy at the thought. He had been rather subdued since their excursion onto the parallel world, and today had been a step in the right direction, swinging back into the close comfort of being each other's sole travel companion.

He turned as if he sensed her gaze, finding her tucked away in one of the quieter corners, the food shoved into her hands earlier still sitting there untouched. He gave her one of those smiles that used to be ever so rare, lighting up his whole face. She didn't fight the smile growing in response. 

Raising an eyebrow, she moved her hands a minuscule amount to catch his attention. His eyes dropped from hers to the gelatinous spherical things in her hands before traveling back up with a small nod.

Not wanting to come off as ungracious but not hungry either, Rose took a bite. The taste wasn't bad, sweet and floral, but the texture was unexpected and unpleasantly gritty.

She'd painfully learned her lesson on asking him before eating things a while ago, even if he was potentially more enthusiastic about shoving things in his mouth than he should be. She had jokingly accused him of telling her things were unsafe to steal them for himself just to watch him splutter and protest his innocence. 

The group around the Doctor seemed to pick up their silent communication, allowing him to extricate himself from the conversation with little difficulty. He swaggered up to her, coat swishing dramatically behind him. 

"Everything alright?" he asked. 

"I'm fine," she said, unwilling to spoil his fun.

"Rose Tyler, brooding alone in the shadows, is completely fine. What's the world come to?" His words had their intended effect, drawing out a grudging smile and the truth.

"Just a bit tired, 's all."

"Can't have that, can we?" 

She'd love to take his outstretched hand, but both of hers were currently occupied with the dessert she hadn't managed more than a bite of. It took him longer than it should to register that fact, fingers wiggling in anticipation. 

"Oh," he said, noticing her problem. He pulled what looked like a crumpled ball of cling wrap from his pocket, unfolding it and shaking out crumbs before covering the mostly intact blob. It then joined the innumerable other objects floating around in the void of his pockets. 

"C'mon." Ignoring what leftover slime must still be on her hand, he tugged her out of the crowd and back over to the TARDIS. His enthusiasm was infectious, and more than worth setting her exhaustion aside for a while. "I believe I promised you the best stargazing this side of the galaxy."

To be honest, Rose had forgotten that was even the purpose of this trip in the first place. Traveling with the Doctor had a habit of doing that to you, objective of the day dropped for whatever imminent crisis inevitably cropped up.

Attempting to recall more of his morning babble, she managed to hazily remember something about a breathable yet thin atmosphere, allowing the clearest view possible planetside. Or at least that was what she had generally picked up, scattered somewhere between technical terms like turbulent mixing and scintillation. And seeing. Lots of repetition of seeing. She supposed that was what they were there for anyway. 

He'd avoided taking her on satellites or anywhere in deep space since their repeated bad experiences in both this life and his last, trading the randomizer for familiar sights. Well, familiar to him. The TARDIS had been unusually cooperative in destination lately, if not time period. It was a whole can of worms neither of them were quite willing to open, and an affectation of theirs the TARDIS seemed willing to indulge. 

The Doctor slowed down a few meters away from where the TARDIS was parked, dropping her hand to shrug off his coat and use it as a makeshift blanket. Rose needed no invitation to make herself comfortable, plopping down next him. 

Taking the opportunity, she wiped her hand down on her jeans, well aware of the winging he would put up if she did that on his coat. As if it hadn't already gone through worse. The lack of bulges from the many items in his pockets left her slightly disconcerted—and envious—but those thoughts didn't last as she settled back and finally took the time to look up. 

The soft glow from the opaque TARDIS windows and the distant firelight of the sleepy village had nothing on the radiant starlight.

"'S beautiful."

"I know. I used to sneak out at night and spend hours just looking up, planning where to go once I finally could." He sounded as breathless as she felt, just the smallest hints of nostalgia starting to burn holes through his thin veneer of a tour guide.

"You could see all of this?" she asked, bracing herself for the inevitable deflection that so often came with any talk of his past.

"Oh yes. Different stars in different relative locations but just as numerous and just as endlessly captivating," he paused. "You've lived in London all your life?"

"My mum raised me all by herself. There weren't many opportunities to travel." It was a plain statement of fact, free of all bitterness. If asked she wouldn't deny that it was part of the reason she'd started traveling with him in the first place.

"Mmmm London, 21st century, so much light pollution. No wonder you've never seen a night sky like this."

"Oi! Rude," she swatted his arm playfully. "If you've spent so long looking up you might as well point a few stars out."

"Is that all I am to you, a walking encyclopedia?" he asked, voice dripping with false hurt.

"Half the time I don't even ask! But your gob just goes on anyway."

"Alright, Rose Tyler, what do you want to know?" the Doctor said, finally lowering himself onto his back. 

She took a moment to drink in the image of him smiling up at her, scattered stars reflecting out from the dark depths of his eyes. The view was lightly tarnished by the well-concealed longing she might have missed if she didn't know him better. The little mention of his past must have affected him more than she initially thought.

She took a moment to wonder what he might have been like back then. Was he all gangly limbs and doe brown eyes too big for his face? Did he have studious, strong features that lightened in the face of wonder, ears just as ill proportioned as they had been when she'd known him? Or was he something else, someone else, entirely? She was left with more questions than answers as she flopped back, joining him spread out on the ground, starting to feel just as small as the stars they were staring out at.

"What's that one?" she asked, pointing out to the first star that caught her eye.

"First go and you don't even pick a star. That's a nebula, Rose, the Loel nebula to be precise." 

"All insults today aren't you?" The casual condescension she would've normally let slide rankled more than she'd care to admit.

The Doctor blazed on, ignoring her remark. "They're the birthplace of stars. Big patches of gas floating around getting compressed into what'll one day be some other planet's sun. Come back in a few million years and you might find the start of some new species or civilization. Who knows, maybe you'll find the start of a new colony, terraforming and all."

He shifted his head, accidentally bumping it against hers as he peered up at the sky, a small frown forming on his face. "Unless of course, I got your pointing wrong and you were pointing to that other star slightly to the right."

"You're having me on!" she accused, familiar enough with his brand of misdirection to call him on it.

The frown exaggerated itself into something closer to a pout. "I _am_ fairly sure that's a nebula, Rose."

"If you can't even tell me what they are what use are you?" 

"I like to think I have other uses." When her skeptical expression refused to change he continued. "There are a _lot_ of stars. Am I supposed to know them all? And if I did why travel?"

"Fine, then. Where's earth?"

"Earth's a planet, Rose," the Doctor said patiently, like he was explaining to a five year old. He would've had her fooled if it weren't for the mirthful glint in his eyes, betraying the fact that he was taking the mick out of her. 

"The Sun, then!"

"Well," he started seriously, "if you got in a spaceship and travelled in about that direction for a couple million light years you'd still be very far away from the Sun because pointing for direction at this distance is terribly inaccurate."

It wasn't particularly funny, but the large grin that broke out on his face was terribly endearing. Just as well Mickey had been left behind in the alternate universe, or the endless fun he'd poke at the two of them grinning at each other like idiots. 

"You've got to know where something is, you said you'd come here before," she pushed. Star gazing he'd promised her, and that was what she'd expect.

The Doctor turned suddenly quiet, before finally speaking up.

"I thought we just established that pointing is a very bad method for star identification." The weak joke came out hollow, teasing tone gone and nothing there to fill its space.

She'd unknowingly hit upon a weak spot with all the subtlety of slamming a foot into a step hidden by a layer of snow. 

Rose let her hand drift over the blue silk lining, finding his and lacing their fingers together. "You don't have to tell me, y'know."

His hand rested limply in hers, face fixed firmly on the night sky. 

She waited with a baited breath for his reaction, faint stirrings of regret bubbling within. Should she have brought it up and broken the fragile tension between them? No, she wanted answers and this was the best way to get them. He more than anyone knew he could choose not to give them to her. 

His adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed before turning his face back to her. 

It was easy to forget his age—more so since his regeneration with its younger face and manic energy—but his eyes held the weight of centuries.

He gently raised their entwined hands, slipping a finger free to point more readily. 

"Do you see those bright bluish stars there? They make kind of a curve," he said, tracing the shape with their hands.

Rose hummed her assent.

"Now on the inside of the curve, the gold ovalish light there."

"What is it?" she asked as he let their arms drop, certain they were both focused on the same point.

"That was my home." His voice was deceptively soft despite the emotion loaded within the words.

She resisted the urge to snap her attention back to him, fearing if she looked away, she'd lose track of one tiny star among the rest of the twinkling tapestry above. "That's your planet."

"What’s left of it." His feigned nonchalance was betrayed by the sharp exhale that came after.

"But we can still see it. You said it was gone. Destroyed." _Can’t you try to go back?_ was on the tip of her tongue, held back only by the far too obvious answer that would only bring him more pain to answer.

"I had to time lock it. Freeze the whole of the time war to stop it from erasing all of creation."

"If it’s locked how are we looking at it right now?" She may have missed the actual destruction of Earth—what with all the panic—but she certainly didn't miss the aftermath. Chunks of rock and debris drifting off in different directions, destined to be swallowed up by the ever expanding sun. Not exactly much of a view.

"That’s all that’s left. Hanging in space burning for all eternity. A speck in a million night skies."

"That’s horrible." 

"I did this sometimes. Do this sometimes. Go somewhere close and just watch it burn. It’s all I've got left." The mournful note hung in the air, pain long immaterial finally made tangible. "That and the TARDIS. The two orphans of Gallifrey," he enunciated, title taking on a mocking tone. "And the Daleks don’t even have the decency to stay dead." 

The name of his age old enemies was spat out like a curse, their mere mention enough for his fingers to curve defensively within her loose grip. 

"It's so small," Rose said, turning her attention back to him. She'd been listening, but the whole time she couldn't get that thought out of her head. It sat there, repeating over and over again, whispered in the back of her mind as he raged. She'd tried not to, but she'd built up the image of someplace grand, full of otherworldly wonder—for where else could produce something like him—to see it in such a state shattered that illusion. 

"We're still far away. Everything close by, the whole seven systems, gone," he answered vaguely.

" _Gone_ gone, or that gone," Rose asked, pointing back up.

"Both. Neither. I don't know anymore." The Doctor gave a tired laugh, rubbing his face with his free hand. "Does it even matter?"

Rose let her brows draw together, pulling what he had aptly nicknamed her concerned face. He rarely got so maudlin nowadays, especially in her presence. 

Ever since the conversation had taken a turn he had failed to look at her for longer than a quick glance, as if he was scared some sort of judgement might be painted across her face. He neglected to do so now, instead taking her silence as encouragement to continue. 

"I used to travel to see things that were new. The whole universe, teeming with life and places to discover. Now, at times it feels like I'm traveling to make sure it's all still there."

He finally caught sight of her.

"Oh, don't. I'm fine," he said. 

"No, you're not."

"I'll be fine," he amended.

She wasn't sure she believed him, convincing as he sounded.

"Doctor, why are we here?"

His mouth open then closed as he reconsidered his answer to her question. She could nearly hear the whirs and clicks of him running the calculations of whether or not he could get away with a lie. 

"You've got earth. Jackie. This is all I've got. A small gap in the fabric of reality was all it took to nearly lose everything."

She twisted onto her side, abandoning the sky above to face him.

"You have me."

He just gave her a sad smile.

"I mean it, Doctor."

"I know."

He pulled her close, lifting her hand to plant a small kiss before dropping it. Tucking her head under his chin, he let the silence wrap around them like a warm blanket.

The dim starlight and gentle rhythm of both hearts lulling her into a dreamlike state, Rose considered that maybe it was alright to feel small, as long as they were small together.


End file.
